Not a dream
by xNevermorex
Summary: Why is it that all girls trapped in Middle Earth are damsels in distress with perfect attitudes? Why is it that I am the only one with half a mean streak (more than half, actually) and an ounce of ability to think for myself? (full summary inside. Chapter
1. Default Chapter

Hey, everyone. I am Nevermore, and I formerly lived in the Anime section until I relocated to Harry Potter and LOTR. I recently fell in love with LOTR (and a certain blonde elf archer...), and this is my first fic in it. I have written many other fics though, so don't scream and run away screaming, "FIRST-TIME AUTHOR! SOMEONE CALL 9-1-1!" In this fic I am also going to try to create the anti-MarySue. She has no idea what's going on, and her attitude makes her less-than-endearing to some people.

Summary: Yes. A first-person summary. Got a problem? Why is it that all girls trapped in Middle Earth are damsels in distress with perfect attitudes? Why is it that I am the only one with half a mean streak (more than half, actually) and an ounce of ability to think for myself? And now I have to go all the way to Rohan to find Gandalf to get him to help me. Well, at least I've got everyone's favorite travelers going - grudgingly - with me. I still say I'm dreaming.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, so if you sue me, I will sic a legion of hot-as-heck elf archers on you.

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Aw, damn.

Why the hell did my alarm clock not go off?

If I'm late for school again, I'll get suspended. Damn! That's the last freaking thing I need!

I open my eyes. Yep. I'm definitely late. There go my Winter Vacation plans. The sky is bright blue and the sun is already almost at its peak. Wait. How can I see the sky, if I'm in my bed?

I jump to my feet. No, I am definitely NOT in my bedroom. Grass expands on all sides of me, and a small, fuzzy pony pulls a small, hay-covered cart down a small dirt path. There are little hills with...windows and doors... all around.

Him. This is strangely familiar. Actually, it is very familiar, but I am a sensible (stop laughing, now. Or I'll try my hand at archery, and miss you entirely, but it's a good threat) and know fiction from reality.

"You're awake!" a small voice behind me says. I spin around. I see nothing. I look down.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!" I jump back, trip, and land flat on my ass. Real graceful, Amy.

But there, standing right before me, complete with curly hair and fuzzy feet, is Pippin.

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WILL YOU STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT, DAMN READERS/AUDIENCE/WHATEVER!? And you! In the blue shirt! If you don't stop calling the insane asylum, prepare to face my wrath! Wait. I don't have wrath. I'm late for school, stuck in...I don't even want to think about it... and face to face with a hobbit!

Oh my god, I sound like a psychopath.

Oh my god, I am a psychopath.

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"Merry! Over here! She's awake!" Pippin calls again. Another little hobbit trots up behind him and smiles cheerfully at me. I push away a spiky strand of short black hair self-consciously (I don't think my wonderful sense of style is very appropriate for Middle Earth)

"What's your name? I'm Pippin." Pippin says. I simply nod incredulously. Of COURSE I know who he is! I still can't find my voice to say anything. I know I'm dreaming. Except, normally, my LOTR dreams don't involve Pippin or Merry at all. I like them and all, but my dreams are occupied by OTHER things.

"Pip, you brainless orc! She just fell from the sky and now you ask her her name before making sure she's okay?" Merry cries. Yay. They're concerned about me. I think.

"Amy." I mutter stupidly. Funny how little I can say now, but I seem to always be suspended for talking in class.

"Come again?" Pippin says inquisitively. He's always curious. I've noticed that.

"Oh, my name's Amy." I say quickly.

"Welcome to the Shire, Amy." Pippin says cheerfully. "You can tell us where you're from while we go meet our friends." I gulp. Damn. Once again, I'm good at lying, but I can't do it in LOTR terms. "I'm visiting from NYC" won't help me here.

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Fortunately, I manage to stall Pippin and Merry for a while as we walk, bringing up stupid things such as how pretty a little white pony is (actually, it is pretty cute, big, fuzzy ears and all...SHIT, I'm going soft) and how much I love the air here.

That's when we arrive at Frodo's cute little hobbit hole. Pippin and Merry knock, and Frodo comes to the door. He invites us in. Unfortunately for me, I didn't duck enough going into the really short little hole. I hit my head on the door. Whack. Pretty lights... wait. I'm on the ground. DAMNIT! At least Aaron Hale from Algebra wasn't watching. Or any elves.

"Oi, Amy, you alright?" Merry asked. I nod, cursing myself, and he smiles. "This is our friend, Frodo."

Frodo smiles. "Now, Amy, from where do you travel?"

"and what brings you to unconsciousness in the middle of the Farmer Maggots' pony grazing field?" Pippin teases. If I had any smart comment without swears in it, I would've said it.

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Aww, I love them. They're like the little brothers I never had. Hey. I could live here. Sweet hobbits. No school. No work. No responsibility. Elves (somewhere). See? I'm optimistic. And people call me a cynic.

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"You've yet to answer my question, Amy. Where do you journey from?" Frodo repeated.

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Damn. I'm screwed. They'll never understand. My life is over. The world will end and I will die.

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Wait. This place is enchanted. Anything can happen. "Listen...I'm from a parallel universe. The United States of America. I doubt you've heard of it."

"I've heard of that once…." Merry says. I think it nearly killed me.

"You have?" Pippin looks surprised. So do I.

"Wait…no…." Damn hobbit. I know they think I'm lying.

"I don't know how I got here and I don't know how to get back." I blurt stupidly. As I say this, a scraggly strand of black hair falls out of the clip it had been held back in. Wow, I look quite disheveled. I know it. How is it that Mary Sues can look perfect, no matter how far they travel, how much mud they walk through/get splattered by, or how many twigs pull at their hair? TELL ME! SOMEONE, TELL ME!

"Do you want to stay?" Merry asks. I want to. Sort of. But I kind of miss America, too. And I don't want everyone to think I'm dead.

"I have no damn idea." I swore at hobbits. I'm bad. Somebody shoot me. Or spear me with an arrow (if that's the only way I can associate with elves, so be it). Or whatever the expression is here. "I don't know how to get back. I told you"

"Gandalf can probably help." Pippin pips (haha! I'm good, yeah!) "He can do anything."

"He's in Rivendell, right? We can go there, we don't have to pass through anywhere like Moria." Merry glances at Frodo and raises a cute little hobbit eyebrow.

Frodo's brow furrows. "No. He's visiting in Rohan for an undisclosed amount of time."

"I am not walking alone to Rohan." I say quickly, crossing my arms.

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Damn. I hope it wasn't too blatantly obvious that I know where Rohan is and how dangerous the path to get there is.

Just say it. I'm an idiot.

Wait. Am I losing my witty edge? THIS CANNOT HAPPEN! I'LL BECOME A NERD WHEN I GET HOME! REBELLION IS MY HOBBY! I AM QUEEN OF REBELLION!

.........but here, my rebelliousness has yet to resurface under the waves of me falling on my ass. Repeatedly. STOP LAUGHING, DAMN READERS!

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"Then what can we -" Frodo begins, but then we all hear hoofbeats (Large hoofbeats, as opposed to hobbit pony hoofbeats) outside. Pippin glances out the window.

"Aragorn, Legolas, Arwen, and Gimli are here!" He says, grinning. I think my eyes swell to the size of my face.

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Before you can say "That girl is a murderous psychopath and should be locked up," I am out the door, knocking the little thing almost off its hinges, and standing in the path of the galloping horses.

The light shines down on the horse on the right. A white horse. And on it sits the King Of All That Is Hot. Oh shit, I am definitely dreaming...definitely, definitely dreaming...this is just another figment of my imagination, its going to go away, just like all the -

The horses all slam on the brakes right before sending me into the next dimension. "Just what' d'you think you're doing'?" Gimli asks me, tugging his beard in frustration (I am a frustrating person. You should know that by now.)

"Standing." I respond quickly. My voice sounds rebellious again. "Why? Anyone have a problem?" I am regaining a sense of myself by pretending it's only Gimli I'm hauling off at, not Elf McHotness.

"Amy!" Pippin runs out to me. Good. I'm glad he did. I think things were about to get ugly, although it would be a nice change of pace if, rather than marrying and being together forever, my dream (I'm positive it's a dream) involves being slain by my beloved.

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But then I think, if I were really dreaming, wouldn't I have woken up when I ran into that hobbit door? Ow. My head hurts. But it'll hurt even more if that arrow hits it. So I get off the path.

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"You know her?" Aragorn asks Pippin.

"Yep. She's our new friend, Amy." Pippin grins proudly. Joy. He thinks I am a trickster like him. Of course, he lives a good life. I wouldn't mind.

"Aragorn! Legolas! Gimli! I'm glad you're here!" Frodo is coming out of his hobbit hole. He stands by the side of the path.

"Why?" Legolas asks, glancing suspiciously at me. I wonder if Pippin will notice that I am now a puddle on the ground. Wait. I'm not. He's clutching my arm as though he fears I will run myself under their horses' hooves.

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Will you guys cut the dubious stare? I will NOT run under a horse's hooves!

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"We need you to accompany Amy to Rohan to see Gandalf." Frodo says. I could've run over and hugged Frodo. That's when I remembered that my Preciouses over there currently loathed me. (it means hated. Get a dictionary. You'll need it later.)

"Accompany her? She'll need more than us to even leave the Shire alive, with a brain like hers!" Gimli huffs. Aww, he's just jealous cause I don't like him as much as the other two. Of course, no one can compete with Legolas.

Legolas says nothing. He makes a point of doing that in important situations. Aragorn says nothing. He doesn't do that very often.

"Please! She needs help! She will be no burden, I promise." There Frodo goes, putting words in my mouth. He seems like he wants to help me. But I think he just wants me to leave.

"We should accompany her there. We are headed that way." Arwen says. I smile graciously at her, and try to look sweet. or ethereal, like her. Maybe she likes etherealness.

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Don't know the word Ethereal? Look it up in the dictionary. The one I told you to get earlier, you know?

"Fine. I suppose we can." Aragorn says. Legolas looks somewhat disinterested, as though he disapproves of the decision but is too well-mannered to say otherwise. Damn. Why does everyone I love hate me? It's like with Jeff in middle school...

"We ride off now. We've got a ways to go before nightfall. Amy. Go collect your belongs, we'll await you near the exit to the city." He said my name. Pippin. I'm a puddle again. Help me. 


	2. Damn pony Damn orcs Damn Everything

Notes to reviewers:

Born to be Hanged: Hehe, thanks. grins Yeah, I realized that myself once I started writing it. One huge temptation with this kind of story is to eventually make your character soften up and melt down. I'm going to try as hard as I can not to. If I start going down that path, hit me over the head with a frying pan.

ThoseRainyDays and DarkAngelPearl: Thanks! I'll be updating a lot because this story is so much fun to write.

Summary: A regular, LOTR-loving teenager finds herself in Middle-Earth, suddenly. The only way she can get back is through Gandalf. Problem is, she's in the Shire. He's in Rohan. See her dilemma? So she gets dumped on everyone's favorite group of travellers - and they aren't too thrilled with their very...opinionated new member of the group. Will they make it in time? Will they survive? Will they, oh, crap, forget the suspense.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Sue me and prepare to face the same elven arrow flurry as before.

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We set out at around noontime, or, at least, I think so. The sun's way up in the sky, that's all I need to know.

Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli, and Arwen, all up there on their fast horses, are way ahead of me, and Merry and Pippin who had begged, and pleaded, and bribed, to come along.

I try to get my pony (the hobbits gave it to me. Really short thing. Shorter than my dog.) to go faster. It's gallop can hardly keep up with the bigger horses' trots. This is going to be a long journey. I can tell because my ass is already sore.

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So, just as we enter the forest to leave the Shire, my pony decides to start acting up. I can't blame it. I'm 5'6 and it's back is probably 4 feet, max. but it starts dropping its head and trying to stop and eat. I decide now is a good time to give it a name, but, because I intend to call it by this name (and remember that I'm still trying to pursuade Legolas and the others that I am not an evil bitch bent on causing chaos and destruction) I can't call it Jackass, as I am so tempted to do.

"I'll name you Pita. Stands for Pain in the Ass. But no one has to know it." I say. The little white pony ignores me. Damn pony.

So, we trot along through the woods. Trot, trot, trot, choppy little strides. Ass killing me. Then, I hear a long, high-pitched screech. "AHHH! RING WRAITH!" I scream bloody murder and kick my pony into a gallop, only to glance up and see an eagle. The eagle, damn thing, makes a point of making the same sound after my scream stops echoing.

Legolas gives me one of his "I-am-too-polite-to-say-what-a-paranoid-idiot-you-are" looks. Hey. Its a look, right?

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About a half-hour later, I am over almost getting eaten by a giant, man-eating eagle. In fact, I'm quite bored. We have slowed to a walk because the horses (especially my fat little Pita) were getting tired.

Subconsciously, I start to sing "The Remedy", that wacky Jason Mraz song that popped into my head. "IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII won't worry my life awaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!" I sing.

"What are you singing? A folk song of some sort?" Pippin asks, trotting his little black pony up next to Pita (his ears were back. I think he hates my singing. Wait. I stopped calling him it, didn't I?)

I look around, wishing my best friend Erica were here to cover for me. "Sorta."

I hope Pippin will be satisfied with that. Nope. "Can you teach me some?" Hell, I want a little fun. So, I teach Pippin the song. and Pippin teaches Merry.

Suddenly, I'm not bored anymore. We've picked up a trot again, and the hobbits and I are singing, quite badly, our new theme song. "Cause the remedy is the experience, it is a dangerous liaison, the comedy is very serious, it is a strange enough new play on words!" and so on and so on. If you listen to the radio you've heard the song and don't need me to describe every lyric to you. It would take your time.

Legolas is obviously ignoring us. Good, because, if he looked at me, my voice would squeak and then I'd have to die of embarrassment.

"You are going to attract the wraiths." Aragorn says. "A little farther and we'll reach an open area where we can camp for the night."

We all shut up. I don't want to be wraith food.

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It's around 10 now. The moon is full. It's actually really pretty, big and orange as the harvest moons back in normal Earth that happen in the fall. Damn, now I sound all sentimental. Actually, I'm trying to enjoy every minute of my stay here in Middle Earth. It's every girl's dream to be on a mission with these guys. Except, unfortunately for me, the only people who have had the courtesy to come and talk to me are Pippin and Merry.

but talk we do. We're like a little trio, buzzing around and talking. I'm sort of avoiding Legolas now. Well, not really, but you know how it is. Like in school. You see the guy of your dreams walking down the hallway. And what do you do but either 1) hide behind your locker or 2) turn and run like a bat out of hell? I don't think he notices though. Nor cares. Woe is me.

Another hour must have gone by now. Pippin, Merry and I are standing watch, only because we wouldn't have shut up and gone to bed anyway. It's pretty uneventful, actually. Pita is tied to a tree, unlike most of the horses, because I don't trust him. I know he'd run away. Damn pony.

At about 12:30, I hear a rustling and growling in the bushes. Pippin and Merry do, too. "An orc!" Merry whispers fearfully. My eyes take up my whole head.

"We have to wake someone!" Pippin said.

"Gimli's closest." Merry points out.

"You couldn't wake him with a sledgehammer... Amy, go wake up Legolas." Pippin says urgently, as the rustling in the bushes gets louder.

I nod. But I have no intention in hell of waking up legolas. I walk over to Aragorn. "Aragorn! Orc!" I say, shoving him.

Aragorn jumps up immediately. His loyal horse trots over to him, in case he has got to get away. I glare at Pita out of the corner of my eye. Damn disloyal pony. "What?" Aragorn says.

"In the bushes." I point at the bushes. "Can't you hear it?"

"Rustling." Says Aragorn. He walks closer to the bushes. "Come out and fight, vile creatures!" He challenges. I hold my breath and hold a stick I found on the ground up like it was a sword. Pippin and Merry do the same.

And then, the rustling grew even more intense. And from the bushes, dark and sinister in the dim moonlight, strode....

cue Jaws music

more Jaws music

yet more Jaws music

A fox-like creature with a mouse in its mouth. "STUPID, STUPID, STUPID! GODDAMN YOU, YOU STUPID, STUPID ASS OF A...A THING!" I scream, tossing a rock at the small animal. It yelps and runs away.

Pippin and Merry blink at me. Aragorn chuckles. "That's your orc? I think you're all getting a bit tired. Go to sleep, and I'll keep watch for a while."

I have no intention of sleeping. This is too cool. But then I remember how tired I am. Uh oh. Light...fading... must...not...relent.... zzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Please do not disturb.

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Awww shit. Shit. Ow. Crap. Damn. Pain. How do these guys survive riding hard then sleeping on the ground? I stagger to my feet. Everyone else is up and moving around. Legolas, coming back with some berries, apparently from the forest (no, smart one, they fell from the sky), gives me another look. I immediately stand up and pretend to be dutifully searching for Pippin.

I walk down to the far edge of camp, a bit beyond. It's beautiful, actually. The sun is rising over the horizon, a flock of birds flies in front of it. A herd of horses grazes far below. I wonder if maybe they're a bunch of escaped jackass ponies like Pita.

I hear a noise behind me. A twig snaps. "Morning, Merry." I say without looking back. Good. I'm glad he found me. Now I have someone to stand with me so I don't look out-of-place.

Then I hear a growl. A low, throaty growl. Woah. Merry must've woken up on the wrong side of the bed. I turn around. And look up. Purple. Tall. Warty. Eww...odoriferous... definitely NOT Merry. The not-Merry orc takes its club and swings it at me. I jump out of the way. Barely. Clumsily. DAMN, AMY, YOU SHOULD'VE TAKEN KARATE!

"Um, ORC!" I scream, hoping someone, anyone, will hear me. After dodging several blows, I remember that I should not be hopping around like mad. I should fight. "You ready, bitch? I'm taking you down." I hiss, sounding relatively threatening (it's just like one of those suspension-resulting fights that EVERYONE always provoked with me at school).

I pick up a rock and throw it. It hits the orc in the head. Before I can celebrate, it roars. Damn. I pissed it off. Oh shit. I reach down to pick up another rock, but stumble trying to dodge a blow at the same time.

Oh no. I'm on the ground. Exactly where I don't want to be. On the ground. "HELP ME!" I scream. I don't have time to get up. If only I had taken karate instead of home economics...I just wanted something to occupy sixth period that I wouldn't miss when I ditched...

I closed my eyes. Damn. Amy, you are sad. You know that!? SAD! You are going to die because of one damn orc. And you know why you're gonna die? Not because you got hit, bitch. BECAUSE YOU FREAKING TRIPPED. So, as I mentally massacre myself, I hear something.

WHOOSH.

Thud.

Oh. My. God. I KNOW that whoosh-thud! Hooray, this is exactly how my dreams go! I open my eyes.

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the orc is dead. On the ground. Good... good, we're on the right track here...and, sticking out of him, is an...

axe.

Wait.

AXE!? Oh, just kill me! I glance to my side. Gimli is pulling his axe out of the orc. "Ye really can' fight at all, can ye?" He asked me, stroking his beard. Okay. First, he saves me. He had the NERVE to save me! Then, he insults my fighting abilities.

"WHY DID YOU SAVE ME!?" I screech.

Gimli looks surprised. "If I, er, wasn't mistaken, you were about to get slashed by that orc." He says.

I glance across the camp site. Pippin and Merry are rushing over. Aragorn and Legolas are strolling over. Leisurely. Hello. Can you really be sure I'm not dead here? That's the one thing I envy Mary Sues for. No matter how annoying they may be, whenever they get a little scratch, everyone fawns over them like they're going to bleed to death. But me? Nope. No matter at ALL for what physical of even emotional distress I may be in.

"I think you need trainin'." Gimli says. I blink. Training? Sounds difficult. I am a grade-A slacker. Training does not fit my agenda.

"Um..."

"We'll give you a quick session to get you started here. I'll help." Aragorn says. "Take these." He hands me two little daggers.

I would do a little show-offy throwy thing with them, but I'm not really into self-mutilation.

"Training will start in about an hour. Legolas and I are off to get some wood." Gimli says. Damn lucky Gimli. First he saves me. Then he insults me. Now he's taking MY mission. Getting firewood isn't hard. Especially with Legolas. 


	3. Training sucks

Yes, I know I didn't put up a chapter yesterday, but Wednesdays are busy for me. Now, to answer reviews:

Meeker Beeker - Thanks for the compliments. And the criticism, actually. I like it. It lets me know where I have to improve. But you brought up a point that I have been thinking over myself. I'm considering rewriting that little fragment and deleting the whole "I read a book about that once!" thing because this is not a parody.

ThoseRainyDays - Thanks! Amy loves you a lot too (in a straight sort of way) because you're reading her not-so-glorious adventure (of course, we all wish to death we were in her shoes...except for the training.)

DarkAngelPearl - I'm glad you like it. Yeah, I think I'd probably be scared shitless if a fox jumped out of the bushes at night too, LMAO. Especially in Middle-Earth. And I'd make a bigger fool of myself than Amy is, if that is even possible.

Before I begin the summary and disclaimer and all that, I need to bring something up to you guys. I love how Amy is now, and I want to keep her that way, no matter what develops along the storyline. If I start to ruin her character, do us all a favor and tell me. I've seen way too many stories start out with an interesting character and then lose her to the abyss of sweet helplessness and emotional breakdowns. Not to say Amy will never be friendly with anyone, but I want to try to keep her more or less like she is now. So, remember, if I write something you don't like, tell me.

Summary: Yes. A first-person summary. Got a problem? Why is it that all girls trapped in Middle Earth are damsels in distress with perfect attitudes? Why is it that I am the only one with half a mean streak (more than half, actually) and an ounce of ability to think for myself? And now I have to go all the way to Rohan to find Gandalf to get him to help me. Well, at least I've got everyone's favorite travelers going - grudgingly - with me. I still say I'm dreaming.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I am in a good mood, so I shall not threaten you this time.

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It has been around a half-hour since Gimli and Legolas went off to collect firewood. I am beginning to get distressed. Aragorn is rummaging through one of the sacks back near our main campsite. I wonder if they'll catch me, if I start running now.

Nope. Remember that big cliff near which I fought (yes, fought. Don't start with me.) that orc? Well, its on one side of me. The campsite and the forest occupy the other sides. I feel like a trapped bird. Only without the cage.

Then Aragorn and Arwen walk over to me. Aragorn's holding a bundle of...metal and chain mail? "Put these on." He says, handing them to me.

"Are you crazy?" I hiss, glancing scornfully at the hideous mass of metal that must weigh more than I do.

"You need them for your own protection. You will be dead before we reach even Moria in what you are wearing now. The weakest enemy and the bluntest sword could penetrate it." Gee, thanks, buddy. When I got back from that party last night and crashed in bed immediately, I really should've made sure I was dressed for war just in case my ass finds its way into Middle-Earth while I sleep?.

Arwen reaches out and grabs one of my pretty chains that are so prettily attached to my pretty jeans and shakes it. Of course, it jingles. "Would orcs not be able to hear us approaching adorned in these garments?" she asks.

Okay. They both have quite a few points. But what if I happen to like what I'm wearing? Do I matter that little? Okay, I sound melodramatic here, I know. But I still like my clothes. Blue jeans with holes over the knees, a black Simple Plan t-shirt, and a black jacket with the pretty little Evanescence "E" over the right pocket.

I sigh. You know, that sigh you usually reserve for your parents, that whole, "sigh I really don't want to go to your stupid insert thing you do not want to (and should not be forced to) attend here , but I will, because you're forcing me and I don't want to be grounded (or in this case, die.)" routine.

I take the armor and go behind a rock to change. What, you think I'm just gonna drop everything and change, right there? I swear, you readers are so bad sometimes...

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I clank out from behind the rock. Yes, clank. Clank. Clank. Clank. I can hardly move in all this crap. In some places, it's pretty much falling off of me. In other places, it feels like a badly made corset (or any corset, for that matter.)

"You look good, Amy!" Pippin pips (Haha, I love to say that...)

"I feel like a mobile rock." I say dryly.

At least Gimli and Mr. I-Hold-Grudges-For-Stupid-Things-But-Am-Still-Hot are not back yet. Which means I still have time to plan an escape, which is looking dismal at this point. Wait. Maybe...I glance over to the tree where my ever-valiant pony is dozing. Nope. Pita's definitely not in the mood to carry his precious master on a quest for liberation from this...this...training.

I still have time. precious time. Oh, shit, Amy, give it up, you're going to have to exert yourself physically! Get over it! Oh, I want my Walkman...

You should imagine my upset when Aragorn walks up to me. "Gimli and Legolas should return any minute, but I believe now I shall teach you some basics." Oh no. Basics. Basics are scary. Like basics in algebra, all that Distributive Property and crap. Corrupts my innocent mind.

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About a half-hour of torment and suffering elapse, and in that point Gimli and Legolas return with firewood. Gimli hurries over while Legolas immediately starts stacking the firewood. I suppose since I'm not going to learn archery (and he still doesn't like me, at least as far as I know) my training is of little interest to him.

by now I am sweating insanely. The armor is very warm, and, considering it's about 60 degrees outside anyway, I could use a bucket of water over the head. Still, though, I was proud of myself for coming along with some basic swipes and stuff. A lot of it, at this level anyway, is pretty much instinctive.

"She's learned some offense. Now she must learn some defense. I'll leave you to that, Gimli." Aragorn says, and he and his pretty little Arwen (whom I actually find decent, considering she pulled for me to be able to come with everyone) head back to where Legolas is. Pippin and Merry are, of course, huddled next to Gimli and I, watching the training intensely.

I hate hobbits. I absolutely hate them. Taking pleasure in my misfortune. Either that or they're being supportive.

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Some more time went by, and I was doing quite well (if I do say so myself) on the parry attack Gimli had tought me.

Actually, one time, I would have cut him pretty badly had this been an actual fight and not training. He had leapt at me to see what I would do, and I jumped out of the way then came at him with my daggers, but stopped before I hit him.

It was at that point that the training stopped. So now, I am laying face-up on the grass, watching the pretty clouds swirling around and wishing my limbs would stop feeling like they're falling off. Pippin and Merry seem to have vanished. Lovely.

I lay for god-knows-how-long. Everyone's moving around a lot at the campsite. Packing up, I guess. We will have to get moving soon. After awhile, Legolas appears above me holding Pita. "We must leave at once. I have brought your horse." He says.

I feel paralyzed, but I somehow manage to move. Somehow. Still, its clumsy. "Thanks." I say quickly and grab the reins. My mind immediately whirs for some sort of witty comeback. None come to mind, for once in my life (which is probably for the best. An elf wouldn't understand my sense of humor. As a matter of fact, not many of any race do.)

Anyway, Legolas turns around and walks back to his horse, and Pita casts me a disdainful glance. Joy. Even my pony can see right through me.

(A/N: I know that was wicked short. I just can't really write any more without cutting into the next chapter.) 


	4. counting little orcies

DarkAngelPearl: Oh my god, I love you because you actually reviewed that suckfest of a chapter...I am definitely rewriting chapter three. Definitely. Ew. Ew. EWW! I must've been asleep.

So, yes, for all of you actually reading this,

1. Tell your friends!

2. I'm going to be fixing up some weak points on my previous chapters because I'm a perfectionist. don't worry, I'm not taking anything out, except the really bad thing in the first part that makes me nauseus to read. Essentially, if reading it makes me want to kill myself, I'll delete it.

3. I still love you!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Does "Whoosh-Thud"x1000 mean anything to you?

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I cannot hold myself up. I honestly feel like I'm going to fall right off this damn pony. Clip clop. Clip clop. That's all I ever hear. It's thudding into my brain and I can feel myself slowly going insane.

Well, not really, but that'd be a nice twist, huh? Definitely unique. Uh, no. I have some honor, you know.

Pita is showing a distinct lack of enthusiasm for this constant trotting. If his head goes any lower, he'll do a somersault. I can't really blame him, I must be even heavier for him with all of this goddamn armor. I hate Aragorn. Hate, hate, hate. Like hobbits.

It's been a day since we left camp. A day of nothing but trotting. No camping for the night. No nothing. You know all that firewood Legolas and Gimli didn't take half long enough collecting? Apparently, we're saving it for Moria the Morbid.

You can see I have become quite cynical.

Because I am ultimately the most pathetic person on the face of the earth (or Middle-Earth, if you're a picky stiff), I have been way overthinking Legolas bringing me my pony. Of course, he hasn't actually been showering me with attention since then. In fact, he's sort of just minded his own business.

At least he doesn't always glare at me like he wants me to take a long walk off a short pier or something. He just looks...indifferent.

I decide that I have dealt with my suffering long enough. I'm going for help.

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I refuse to ask Pippin or Merry. They're too innocent to know anything about my miserable plight. Okay. Definitely not Aragorn, I'm still pissed at him about this whole armor situation. I know. Gimli! We've been talking pretty much lately.

I kick little Pita into a canter to catch up with Gimli's horse. "Can I ask you a question?" I begin tentatively.

"I don't see why not." Wow. Gimli's in one of his amiable moods.

"Does Legolas hate me?" Wow, Amy, could you PICK a lamer question? I doubt it. You have sunk to a new low.

Gimli blinked. "How should I know? I'm not the elf's mother." Amiable mood gone. I sigh.

"Nothing?" I persist.

"Well, he did say you were 'queer', whatever that means."

QUEER!?

QUEER!?

"I hope that's in the strange context." I mutter.

"What other context is there?" Gimli inquires.

"Um..."

"Now, why did you ask?" Gimli, I adore you for changing the subject. I hate you for changing it to THIS topic.

"Um..." Okay. What to say? I glance fearfully at Legolas and his horse. I slow Pita, hoping Gimli will slow his horse to stay in stride with me. He does. "I think I sort of like him. Or something. I don't know. And I just want to know what's going on with him is all." Eloquently put, Amy.

Gimli looks almost thoughtful for a moment, then says, "I can't really say I understand. Dwarves don't really have that problem, they sort of just pair up and jump into some small, remotely secluded area-"

"Ew! No! I was looking for helpful advice, not dwarf sex ed!" I screech.

Never ask a dwarf romance advice.

EVER.

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I have to ask someone though. I have to know. Wait. Why didn't I think of this earlier? Arwen! She's another girl. At least, I think. She's an elf, but she's still a female. She's got to have somewhat similar hormone issues.

"Arwen?" I ask. "Can I ask you something?"

"Is this about Legolas?" she says politely, glancing down at me from the top of her gorgeous silver horse. I feel very self-conscious of my plodding little nag.

"How did you know?" I gape at her. Wow. Are elves psychic? Because if they are, I'm definitely screwed in a lot of ways.

"I overheard you and Gimli converse. Forgive me." Arwen looks apologetic. I nod weakly.

She heard.

If she heard...

Did everyone hear?

Oh my god.

I want to die.

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"Are you okay? Amy, what did you want to ask me?" Arwen looks concerned.

"Um...are all elves like you guys?" I have to ask something not completely Legolas-related.

"We have a variety of personalities, just like-" Arwen begins. Then, a pained expression crosses her face. Fear flutters in my heart, and not because everyone heard the woes of my heartache.

"Arwen." I say. "What's wrong?"

"I feel ill." She says, before falling sideways off of her horse.

"ARAGORN!" I scream, leaping/falling off of Pita next to Arwen. The Hobbits trot up on their ponies and jump off. Aragorn rushes over.

"She's sick. Legolas, can you diagnose her?" Aragorn asks as he kneels beside Arwen.

"I'm sorry." The incredibly-hot-when-he's-worried elf says.

"Then her father will be able to. I must take her to Rivendell at once." Aragorn picks up Arwen and goes to his horse.

I fidget and play with Pita's mane. If Arwen kicks the bucket, I will cry. and that will ruin me. See? I am being completely selfish. Don't think for a moment that I care about Arwen or anything.

for once in my life, I suck at lying.

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"But Aragorn, we are so close to Moria, and we must take Amy to Gandalf so that he may help her to get home." Legolas says. Right. try to get rid of me why dont you.

"I know, but-" Aragorn begins. Then we see a group of dark shapes coming toward us. I clutch onto Pita's mane harder. The pony gives a disapproving toss of his oddly-shaped little head.

"Orcs." Gimli mumbles. Pippin and Merry look nervous. I'm scared shitless, but I try to remain calm. I do a damn good job, I think. Kind of nonchalant. like when your sworn enemy is stomping toward you with an army of mindless cronies and trying to intimidate you.

"Aragorn, the elf and I will go ahead and take them out. There doesn't seem to be too many." Gimli says, gathering his horse's reins. Legolas agrees.

"Take Amy with you. It shall be good experience for her, and she'll need it to survive Moria." Oh my god. Aragorn is trying to kill me now. I hop back onto Pita.

"What about you?" I ask.

"Pippin, Merry, and I will stay and protect Arwen in case any come from this angle. We'll catch up with you after."

"Come on, then." Legolas says. He doesn't sound overly concerned. Damn elf. We urge our horses into a gallop (well, they're cantering slowly. Pita's galloping) toward the orcs.

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We halt in a pathetically small line before them. Using my wonderful arithmetic skills (Yes, I DID attend all of my classes in elementary school) I count the orcs before us. "They're sixteen." I say. Damn. Sixteen power-packed orcs, all of them staring maliciously at us.

"Does sixteen divide by three?" Gimli asks. Gee, great time for a math lesson, dwarf.

Legolas glances at us. "Not evenly." he says. Then, I begin to understand. Its their game.

"Okay, then. I'll take fourteen, you guys take the other two." Gimli orders. Surely he jests.

"Not likely, shrimp." I hiss. The three of us lean forward and our horses accelerate into a gallop.

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I feel like a jouster as I gallop on my short little pony, whose legs jar even more at a gallop than a trot, toward the orcs who are still taller than us on foot.

"Keep going straight for once, damnit." I tell the pony. I drop the reins and grab my two daggers. Pita gamely continues galloping straight on into the first orc, his merry little head held high. I think he enjoys fighting, for some strange reason.

I drive one of my daggers into the first orc's chest as we gallop past. it swipes at me, but misses as it falls to the ground. One.

the next one very nearly takes me off my valiant little pony, but, as it lunges toward me, I dig my dagger into its head. It sounds all hollow. Hahaha. I'm not surprised. Two.

I am actually enjoying myself. A lot. It's like a dance. If you take a misstep, you die, but, while you're doing it, it's great fun. And with all the arrows flying everywhere, it's like a slightly more dangerous game of dodgeball (of course, this is no more dangerous than archery lessons at my school. Phew.)

Another orc lunges toward me from behind. Pita, as into this as I am, kicks up at it and knocks it back. Then he spins around so quickly I almost fall off, but, instead, I thrust my dagger into the orc and draw it back (ew. My dagger is black. Orc blood is repulsive.)Three.

But while I'm doing this, another orc comes at me from the front. As I turn around, I see a mace flying straight toward me. Damn. I'm dead. Goodbye world. I knew ye only for fifteen wonderful years.

And I would be, if it wasn't for my precious little Pain in the Ass pony. Pita rears, and, as I clutch desperately to his neck, kicks out at the orc, and knocks it over. He then proceeds to leap onto the downed orc, stomp on it, then stand triumphantly with his mane blowing in the breeze. I hug him. Four. At least, I think that counted.

I look up, after whispering embarrassing things to my pony about how much I absolutely adore him and will love him forever no matter how short he is. All of the orcs are dead. Legolas and Gimli are walking toward me, their horses prancing and enthusiastic. Ha. Pita's better.

"How many did you get?" Legolas asks, bringing his horse to a halt.

"Four." I grin. Unfortunately for me my math is lacking. If I hadn't ditched all those math classes to go joyriding in Principle Ganderbill's ferrari, I would've known that it was impossible for me to have won with four orcs.

"five." Gimli grumbles.

"Seven." Legolas says, smiling. Yes. He was smiling. Smiling at me. Well, me and Gimli. But he obviously wasn't wishing I'd take any walks off of piers.

Yes, I know I look wonderful, smelling of pony and dead orc, hair everywhere, and twin black-dripping daggers in my hands, but I have never felt so good in my life.

And if any of you start singing Jessica Simpson I am going to kill you.

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My head in the clouds, I don't notice Pippin and Merry riding up to us. "Oi! You guys!" Pippin calls.

"What?" I respond. Okay. I'm in a talkative mood.

"Aragorn's taken Arwen to Rivendell! He wants us to go through Moria, he'll meet us on the other side!" The little hobbit says.

"What? He's going all the way to Rivendell alone? No, I won't let him!" Legolas turned his horse back toward the top of the hill where Aragorn had been.

"He's already left!" Merry piped up.

"He told us to go through the mines, elf! And besides, he's Aragorn, king of Gondor! He can defend himself!" Gimli says. Legolas is silent. Aww. He's so loyal. I love it.

I say nothing. I suck at being supportive, so I refuse to try.

"Fine. We'll reach Moria in a matter of hours." Legolas is all solemn again. Damn Aragorn. Ruining my precious' mood.

I have a sinking feeling in my stomach. Moria. Goblins and trolls and Balrogs, oh, my!

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"Here we are. The gate of Moria." Legolas says. We draw to a halt alongside the big door in the massive mountain.

"The horses can't pass." Gimli announces, jumping off of his horse.

Damn. I don't want to leave Pita! The two of us have grown together! "Can't we go around the mountain?"

"We've received quite the snowstorm since the four of us came through initially. It is impassible, especially if we intend to take the hobbits and their small ponies." Did Legolas just call my pony short? Humph.

I can't think of another protest, so I just slide off of Pita and take his tack off. "I wish I could take you, you Pain in the Ass." I give him a little swat on the shoulder. "So, get back to the Shire, punk."

Pita blinks, then trots away. The other horses follow. Ah, it's so sweet, them all following my little precious. Awww, that thing so grew on me...

Damn pony.

"Well, should we, uh, enter?" Merry says. Damn hobbit. I don't want to go in.

"Indeed." Legolas agrees somberly. He walks up to the gate. No.

I hate Moria. 


End file.
